


Coffee Break

by commanderlurker (honeybee592)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Femdom, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 09:26:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17640140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee592/pseuds/commanderlurker
Summary: “I could let you come,” she says. She idly strokes his cock with the tip of her forefinger. It’s dark and hard, so hard. “But I think I’d like to come again. I deserve it, don’t you think?”He doesn’t say anything. Just groans. His poor cock bobs when she lets go of it. And he was so close, too. Pity.





	Coffee Break

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naughty_sock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naughty_sock/gifts).



“I could let you come,” she says. She idly strokes his cock with the tip of her forefinger. It’s dark and hard, so hard. “But I think I’d like to come again. I deserve it, don’t you think?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just groans. His poor cock bobs when she lets go of it. And he was so close, too. Pity.

Before she straddles his chest, she checks her knots again. He’s been straining hard this last hour. She wouldn’t want him injuring himself. Or breaking the coffee table that he’s tied to. She adjusts one of the ties around his wrist. They’re always the ones that come loose first. His muscles flex, veins defined. She forgets just how big and strong he is when he’s splayed out like this for her, tied tight with nowhere to go. Satisfied that he’s fine, she throws her leg over his chest. He’s broad, so she has to stretch her legs wide. Her toes just reach the floor. Her cunt presses against his skin and she sighs, content. But his eyes are closed. He needs to see this. She’s doing this for him, after all, so she takes his chin in her hand. He opens his eyes. He blinks, pupils blown. 

“You okay, babe?” she asks.

He nods. He doesn’t look okay. He looks desperate.

Perfect.

She rocks back and forward on his chest, smearing her come over his skin. She leans forward, her clit pressed against him with delicious pressure, her breasts tantalisingly close to his face. He lifts his head but she pulls back in time. “Nuh uh,” she chides.

He groans. He’s so cute when he groans.

She tickles his flank and he twitches, smiles, almost laughs. His smile is beautiful. The tender moments like this, the pauses between the agony, when they both stare at each other and let time freeze... 

All good things must come to an end, though. She presses her palms to his pecs, drags her hands down his chest as she shuffles back. She coasts over his cock and balls, the wiriness of his hair a rough contrast to the smoothness of his skin. With one hand, she grips his cock and lines him up. She eases herself down, nice and slow, taking her time to really appreciate the head of his cock sliding into her cunt, the rest of him filling her, stretching her. So satisfying when he’s not able to rush her to start his own rutting. Not that he doesn’t try. She just raises her eyebrow and his attempt stops mid-thrust.

Fully seated, her feet take some of her weight, and she rocks, letting her hips guide her, letting her own pleasure build. It takes longer, this time. She’s come, what, three, four times already? And he has not come at all. Pity. This feels so good. She tells him that, tells him how good he makes her feel, how full she is with his cock in her, how beautiful he is. His smile isn’t as broad now, laced with desperation again. She rubs her clit with her middle finger, leans forward and lets him suck her juices off. 

“Tastes good.” That’s all he can manage.

She rocks faster, fingering her clit, rolling her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. He whines, strains against the rope, veins in his arms popping. The table creaks.

“Don’t come,” she reminds him.

He nods and his eyes slip closed. That won’t do.

“Look at me.”

His agony is almost enough to make her come. His cock twitches inside her. He whines. She’ll have to come quick lest he lose control too soon. He’s doing so well. She arches her back, rolls her nipple harder, moans. 

Pleasure blooms from her clit and nipples, flooding her body. She rides out her orgasm, rocking to and fro, hand to her breast, other hand steepled on his abs.

He’s closed his eyes again, teeth gritted, knuckles white. He’s teetering on the edge, holding himself back. He won’t want to let her down, won’t want to let himself down, and he’s straining against every urge to just let go. She climbs off swiftly, settling herself between his legs, and drinks in the thick musk of sweat and come. His balls are tight, cock glistening. She blows cool air on him. He shivers and gasps, but she can see him relaxing already. She’ll bring him down just a little more, then build him back up.

“I love you,” he croaks.

She laughs. “You’re just saying that because you want to come, too.”

This time he grins, toothy and cheeky. “That too.”

She pokes his cock with her forefinger. It bobs and sways, as hard as ever. “Maybe this time I’ll let you come, hmm?” She smiles to herself as she squirts a shot of lube onto her palm and takes his cock in hand. 

He nods and sighs. Poor man. In a few minutes he’ll find out his relaxation is sadly misguided. In the meantime, she’ll let him enjoy himself.


End file.
